Trouble Brewing
by Kleiona
Summary: Calliope is struggling with potion brewing. And Professor Snape is just making things worse...
1. The incident

**AN: My first fic! I am fascinated by the whole teacher-student dynamic, and Snape is so deliciously evil. I have a reasonable idea of where I am taking this. Poor Calliope is going to suffer a bit under the unwanted attentions of the Potions Master. He won't be crossing _that_ line though; don't expect lemons. **

**Thanks for reading, and please review. I welcome constructive criticism ****on my writing.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything you recognise. Just havin' a bit 'o craic with JK Rowling's universe. **

Double potions, Monday afternoon. Calliope Lode was concentrating, completely focused on the complicated healing potion that was simmering in the cauldron in front of her. It had a distinct purple shade, which was about right, according to the instructions in 'Advanced Potion-Making'. But the textbook also mentioned it should be smelling of almonds and 'casting off a vapour, distinctly lace-like in texture'. _Lace-like? How does a vapour even have a texture? _She frowned. Her potion was not casting off any vapour, lace-like or otherwise, nor did it smell like almonds. _Nothing for it but just to keep going, I suppose._ She checked the instructions. She thought the next step was to add a single drop essence of Nightshade; the text warned grimly that too much would not only destroyed the healing properties of the brew, but turn it into a poison. In addition, the potion had to be stirred vigorously while adding the Nightshade. _This is going to be difficult._ Calliope tried to relax herself with a few deep breaths as she gently held the dripper from the small bottle of essence in her right hand and the ladle in her left. The sixth year Ravenclaw had a good head for potion making theory. She grasped even the most difficult concepts with relative ease, but when actually brewing she lacked confidence, causing her to be nervous. Which in turn made for unsteady hands. Not good in potion making, especially when you need to carry out a delicate action at the same time as a vigorous one.

Willing her hand to not shake, she moved the dripper over her cauldron. She started stirring, her attention so completely dedicated to what she was doing that she was no longer aware of anything outside the ladle, the dripper and the cauldron with potion. Carefully, she released a single drop of the essence of Nightshade and was about to slowly withdraw the dripper as a voiced hissed in her ear.

'Do you need glasses, Miss Lode? Can you not read the instructions, can you not _see _that the vapour is not lace-like at all? And I don't smell…' Professor Snape never finished his critique, as his sudden appearance had broken Calliope's intense concentration and startled her. She gave out a small shriek, and her right hand jerked upward, the motion releasing several more drops of essence of Nightshade into the potion. The liquid immediately turned a venomous green and started giving off a smoke which caused all those in the immediate vicinity, including herself and Snape, to cough violently as the fumes burned their lungs. Calliope started scrambling for her wand which she knew was on her desk somewhere, but Snape already had his out and with a silent incantation he emptied her cauldron. As the air cleared, the Ravenclaw found the professor's black eyes focused on her, a little smirk playing on his lips. He inserted his wand back into his robes with a dramatic gesture, and gave an exaggerated sigh. All the other students bend low over their own brewing, pretending not to notice the drama unfolding and thanking the gods that it wasn't them.

'Why, is it, Miss Lode, that you are so incompetent when it comes to brewing potions? You demonstrate at every opportunity that you do understand the theory.'

The comment was unfair. While Calliope had certainly always struggled with brewing, and while she had had a bad run recently, over the previous five years she had generally managed to finish her assignments with success. But then of course, Snape was never fair. Sarcastic and cruel, yes, but not fair.

'I do try very hard, sir, ' she said softly. Calliope tried to meet her teacher's gaze. She knew she was blushing. He had that effect on her anyway, but she was also mortified at having caused such a mess. Again. The third time in a school year that had only started a month ago. Not a great start of her NEWT career in potions at all.

Snape snorted. 'Indeed, you _try_. As for trying very hard? I think not. I have never seen such a discrepancy between theoretical understanding and brewing abilities. You are able to do better. So tell me Miss Lode, when will you start applying yourself to potion brewing properly?'

'I don't know, I mean, I don't understand…' Calliope was becoming more and more distraught, unable to cope with the Potion Master's cruel sarcasm. Her eyes were burning, tears threatening. Then, as she began to comprehend what Snape had just said, she felt a tinge of anger as well. _What? I work harder in his classes than I do in any other. _

When she failed to respond to his question any further, the potions master sneered, displaying his yellow teeth. 'Most of my first years are capable of adequately handling a dripper. You are a NEWT student. So surely it cannot be incompetence that made you add four times the dose of Nightshade required?'

The anger inside Calliope grew as she considered the insult of his comment. The nerves and tension that her recent problems in potions had caused fed her anger, making her do something no one, not even herself, would have thought her capable of. In a moment of insanity, quiet, obedient Calliope Lode snapped_._

'That was your fault!' She blurted it out, then was immediately horrified, instinctively taking several steps back as she saw rage flash on Snape's face before he got himself under control. The entire class drew a collective audible breath, proof that despite appearing to be focused on their work, they were all paying close attention to the encounter between their classmate and the teacher. Undoubtedly, it would be the talk of the school later.

Snape glared at Calliope. His pale face was an expressionless mask, although anger burned in his eyes. 'A most interesting assessment, Miss Lode. Perhaps you would like to elaborate on it after class?' He took a step forward, closing the distance she had created between them and leaned forward until his face, framed by greasy black hair, was level with hers. He spoke softly, voice dripping with sarcasm. 'Since you have evidently finished brewing for the day, I suggest you spend the rest of the class writing up an essay detailing why your potion failed. Which I assure you it had, well before I apparently _made_ you spoil it even further.' Calliope only nodded in response, afraid that she would start crying if she were to try and speak. Snape held her gaze for another moment. Calliope stood frozen to the spot, barely daring to draw breath. Then he straightened and turned sharply in a flurry of black robes. Walking to the front of the classroom, he did not look at back as he spoke again. 'And fifty points from Ravenclaw.'


	2. Consequences

**AN: Avrilavril and DevilsTune, thank you so much for leaving reviews. You have no idea what it means to me to know that someone out there not only read my fic, but actually enjoyed it too. **

**Here's the second chapter. I'm hoping to have the third one up before the weekend. **

**By the way, this story is set some time before the first book, so no Harry, Ron or Hermione. Some of the older Weasly's are probably already running around Hogwarts though. **

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything you recognise; the Harry Potter universe belongs to JK Rowling. **

Relieved that at least Snape's attention was no longer on her, Calliope sank down on her seat and spent the next few minutes trying to calm herself down so that she might be able focus on the task the teacher had set her. She shivered as conflicting emotions raged through her. She was angry, both with Snape and herself, she was embarrassed, but most of all, she was terrified. _Sweet Athena. What have I done! I've just landed myself a detention with Snape. And probably deservedly so. What is wrong with me?_

Snape made her nervous at the best of times. The Ravenclaw was one of those girls who had elevated blending into the background into an art form. She hated being the centre of attention and having to speak in class always made her uncomfortable. Whenever she found a teacher addressing her, even a kind one like Professor Flitwick, she always ended up blushing and stuttering. Which was, of course, part of the problem when it came to potions. Although Snape did not pick on her especially, she had been the object of his sarcasm and humiliating remarks often enough to know that she could not cope with them emotionally. What made it even worse was the way he stared down anyone he was addressing, his black eyes seeming to burn into your very soul. It was no doubt a deliberate intimidating tactic, and it worked. Even the most confident of students shuddered in fear under the scrutiny of the Potions Master. As for Calliope, she was far from confident, and the anticipation that at any moment he might single her out with a question or comment meant Calliope's nerves were always highly strung during potions. And highly strung nerves caused her to be clumsy and make stupid mistakes. The harder she tried to prevent slip ups, the worse it got. It was a vicious circle, Calliope knew it was, but no matter how hard she tried, she could not break free from it. This year, it seemed to have gotten worse.

Biting back the urge to burst into tears, Calliope eventually managed to compose herself somewhat, and turned her attention to the essay she was to write. Having something else to focus on actually helped her calm down further. When she set to the task, she was not surprised that she spotted her initial mistake very quickly. Another one that really should not have happened; she had forgotten to add the lacewings at the start of the recipe. That, no doubt, accounted for the lack of lace-like vapour. As for the almond smell, well, that was a common by-product of magical reactions, so she was almost certain that the lacewings reacting to the other compounds in the potion would have produced it as well.

When the bell eventually rang to signal the end of the class, Calliope's classmates scrambled to leave the room as quickly as possible. Several of them shot her sympathetic looks as they passed. Calliope was grateful, although it didn't do much to prevent the sheer panic rising up in her knowing she had to face Snape again. The teacher was sitting at his desk at the front of his class, examining the vials of potion and notes the other sixth years had just handed in. He was not paying her any heed.

_But no way in Hades that he has forgotten about me. _

Swallowing a lump in her throat, Calliope stood, gathered up her completed essay and started towards the front of the class. She felt like a condemned witch in Azkaban, walking to receive the Dementor's kiss. She halted several steps away Snape's desk, scroll of parchment in hand, waiting for him to acknowledge her. She was not about to anger him even further by interrupting him.

The longer he ignored her, the more nervous she became. Having nothing else to occupy her mind, she started mulling over the incident earlier, and imagining what might be in store for her as punishment for her outburst. _Detention, certainly. I've never had detention before, what will mum and dad say? What will he have me do? Write lines? Or maybe he will make me help Filch with some disgusting job. By Athena, why did I have to tell him it was his fault? _By the time the Potions Master looked up, Calliope had herself all worked up and was close to tears again. Snape regarded her for a moment, his expression revealing nothing, just those black piercing eyes fixing on hers. Very soon, she felt unable to meet his gaze any longer dropped her eyes to the floor.

'Miss Lode. Would you care to explain your behaviour earlier?'

Without looking up, Calliope took another two steps forward until she was within reach of the massive oak desk. Her hand was shaking as she placed the scroll of parchment on top of the desk.

'I am sorry sir.' She muttered it, still looking at her feet.

'Look at me when you are talking to me!' Snape snapped. Calliope lifted up her head, struggling not to flinch under the poisonous scowl Snape was bestowing on her. Even if he had not noticed her unsteady hand, he could not fail to see the distress clearly marked in her face, but the Potions Master's face did not display a hint of sympathy.

'Indeed. You are sorry.' Without taking his eyes of her, his hand reached out for the parchment and he pulled it towards him. 'But what are you sorry for? Are you sorry that erroneously blamed me for your own incompetence, or do you simply regret voicing that opinion out loud?'

'I don't know, sir', she responded softly, unwilling to tell him the truth and not knowing what other response to give. Snape snorted, lips pressed into a thin line and eyes narrowing as he continued to regard her closely. 'Oh, don't bother to give a more appropriate answer, Miss Lode. It was a rhetorical question. The fact of the matter is, however, that you have a problem. Brewing was never your forte, but your performance this year in my class has been abysmal. What do you propose to do about it?'

His remarks hurt. It took all Calliope's willpower now not to just turn and run. She dropped her eyes again, blinking away tears in a useless struggle to contain them. 'I will try harder, sir', she eventually managed in a strangled voice.

'No miss Lode. You will not simply _try_ harder. You must_ do_ better. You have yet to complete one successful potion in the NEWT class. As you are no doubt aware, I accept only the very best and at the moment, you are most decidedly do not fall into that category. If you cannot meet the standard required, you will have to drop potions altogether.'

Calliope's head snapped up at that. She stared at Snape in open-mouthed horror. _He means to drop me from potions? But I've never failed a class before…_

He gave a sardonic chuckle. 'I see I have your attention now. Yes, Miss Lode. I have in the past dropped students from my NEWT class when they could handle the demands of more advanced potion making. I will do it again. You have one more chance to prove that you belong in NEWT potions. I suggest you apply yourself properly during next week's lesson because I will not tolerate another failure from you.'

Calliope's tears started falling in earnest now, Snape looking on in disgust. 'Pull yourself together, Miss Lode, and get out of here. You will serve detention with me on Saturday morning as punishment for your earlier insolence. Report at eight in this classroom, and come prepared as you would for a lesson. I do expect you to be more composed then.' Snape's eyes dropped down to his desk for a moment, where he was still holding her essay and in a sudden movement thrust the parchment across his desk back towards her, rising from his seat as he did so. 'And take this with you. I trust you had the insight to analyse the mistakes your incompetence caused you to make. Although,' he paused as he regarded the upset witch in front of him with a sardonic smirk, 'perhaps you were not _quite _your insightful self today.' The Potions Master stood watching as Calliope hastily snatched up the parchment, turned and not quite ran towards the door, gathering up her bag from her desk without slowing down. When she was clear from classroom, she did run, straight into the nearest bathroom.


	3. A solution?

**AN: Thanks for reading, especially those of you who have left a review! **

**Don't worry, Snape is not about to turn into a big softy. I intend to keep him greasy and horrible, just the way I like him ;-)**

**Here's the third chapter as promised, next one will be up shortly after the weekend. **

**Disclaimer: I still don't own anything you recognise. **

Calliope's tears were flowing freely as she entered the girl's bathroom down the hall from the potions classroom. The bathroom wasn't empty, but fortunately the only other occupants were a pair of first year Gryffindors who were smart enough to pretend, after their initial surprise, that they didn't notice the older girl. Calliope locked herself in one of the stalls, sat down on the toilet and collapsed with her head in her lap. For a while, she just huddled. If any of the girls coming and going from the bathroom, noticed her muffled cries, none of them attempted to speak to her.

_He is going to drop me from potions. _

The thought was so horrendous it seemed made her want to wail.

_I have one more chance. But I'll probably just mess up gain. I just can't seem to do anything right in potions these days. By all the deities in the pantheon, what am I going to do? I can't fail…_

A typical Ravenclaw, the thought of being a failure at anything academic was so alien, so…humiliating. Of course, Calliope wasn't perfect. She sometimes messed up new spells in Charms and Transfiguration. She didn't always get 'Outstanding' in tests: she got her share of 'Exceed Expectations' and even the occasional 'Acceptable'. But with practice, she always mastered spells in the end and she had never outright failed a test. Not ever. Even in Herbology and Astronomy, her worst two subjects by far, she had easily managed an 'E' in the OWLs.

Eventually the worst of her tears subsided. When she was sure there was nobody else in the bathroom, Calliope came out the stall. Standing by one of the sinks she looked at herself in the mirror. Not surprisingly, her face was all swollen, her eyes puffy and red and her nose a colour to match. Not that she was much to look at in the first place, or such was Calliope's opinion of herself. She did like her eyes, which were large and dark brown, but her face was forever breaking out, and her hair, which she usually wore in a messy ponytail, was a dirty blonde. When freshly washed and combed it could be sleek and shiny, but it tended to turn into a frizzy tangle again about five minutes later. Calliope was tall, but not in a graceful sort of way; she was awkward and clumsy. It had been a relief not having to struggle through flying lessons anymore after first year.

Calliope ran the cold water tap and washed her face. It improved her appearance somewhat, but she still looked a mess. _I am going to have to get back to the common room some time. Might as well do it now. _She figured that it would be dinner time by now. The halls would be deserted, so with a little luck she could sneak back to the Ravenclaw tower without being seen. She would skip the meal itself, she wasn't particularly hungry anyway.

Moving quickly to the familiar corridors, she chose the shortest route to the Ravenclaw tower. On the way, Calliope encountered one or two people heading in the opposite direction, running late for dinner, down towards the Great Hall, but fortunately, no fellow Ravenclaws amongst them.

The brass eagle doorknocker shone in the faint sunlight of the setting sun filtering in from the windows overhead as it intoned, 'Why did the scorpion sting the turtle as they were crossing the river, causing them both to drown?'

'Because it is in his nature,' Calliope answered without needing to think. As she went through, she couldn't help but be a bit surprised at how easy the riddle had been. _Perhaps the knocker had sensed I'm upset and decided to let me off the hook for once. _ She wondered, not for the first time, why the Ravenclaw common room could not just have a password like everybody else. _I'm all for learning, but come on, sometimes I really wish I could just enter my dorm without having to argue my way to a logical problem first. _

There was nobody else in the Common Room. It seemed as if everybody else had gone down for dinner. That was a relief. Calliope took her favourite chair by the fire, and was not at all surprised when out of nowhere her cat, a black-and-white fatso by the name of Mr. Wobbles, appeared, settled himself on her lap and purring loudly as she obligingly scratched him behind his ears. He always seemed to know when she returned, showing up the instant she settled down in the common room. Today Calliope was more grateful for that than ever. Stroking the soft, warm feline had a calming effect, and she slowly began to feel a bit more relaxed.

She remained in her chair by the fire, until Laura McGregor joined her. The Scottish girl was a fellow sixth year Ravenclaw, one of Calliope's dorm-mates, and her best friend. She appeared well before the rest of the Ravenclaws returned from their dinner, and she was carrying a plate of food.

'Hey Cal', Laura said softly, placing the plate on a nearby table, and setting herself down on a stool beside Calliope. 'I heard what happened in potions. Are you alright?'

Laura did not take NEWT potions, but several other Ravenclaws did, and obviously they had told her about what had happened. Calliope only shrugged, not knowing what to say. But with Laura there was no need for words. The other girl knew of Calliope's recent problems with potions and of her fear of Snape, and was not surprised to see that she had been crying. Laura reached out to give Mr. Wobbles an affectionate pat on the head, and said 'You missed dinner. Can't say I blame you, your little outburst is the talk of the table.'

Calliope grimaced. 'Oh great, just what I need,' she muttered.

Laura smiled. 'It is not so bad. General consensus is that you are this week's official Ravenclaw hero, standing up against the tyranny that is potions class.' This got a weak smile from Calliope, as Laura continued. 'I brought you some food anyway. Roast chicken, I know you like that.' It was true, roast chicken _was _Calliope's favourite dinner. And she had been starting to get hungry. She had in fact been eyeing the plate ever since Laura had brought it in. Admitting defeat, Calliope reached over and took the plate, tucking into the delicious food. In no time at all, she had polished it all off.

'Thanks Laura. That was lovely.' She smiled gratefully at her friend, who had watched her eat. Laura grinned back at her. 'Hey, it's what friends are for. Now, tell me what happened?'

The question immediately wiped the smile of Calliope's face again. She didn't really want to talk about it, not in the least because she might start crying again. _But Laura deserves to know. Besides, I have to tell someone_.

Calliope let out a sigh and closed her eyes as she leant back in her chair. 'Too be honest, I am not sure what happened. I mean, my potion was already a failure, but then Snape startled me and I added too much Nightshade, the whole thing turned into a disaster, and then…' She shook her head in disbelieve. 'And then I told Snape it was his fault.' Laura sat squinting at Calliope through the lenses of her thick classes. 'But surely it _was _his fault if he startled you?' she said. Laura didn't wait for her friend to answer. 'But of course,' she sighed, 'that doesn't matter to the greasy git. I am sure he considers himself to be infallible.'

Then the Scottish witch surprised them both by giggling. 'Sorry, Cal,' she apologised. 'But I was just imagining what must have been going through Snape's head when you told him off. I mean, the man is a tyrant. He'll land you in detention for sneezing or dropping your quill. Nobody ever dares to stand up to him. It must have been quite a shock that someone finally did, especially you.' Laura spread her arms in a dramatic gesture. 'Calliope Lode, who is probably the quietest, shyest witch in all of Hogwarts. Calliope Lode, who does whatever she can to talk to as few people as possible. I mean, you don't even like shopping 'cause you don't want to have to talk to shopkeepers! And here you are, talking back to Snape of all people!' Laura's giggles were infectious, and Calliope found herself unwillingly laughing along. _I suppose she does have a point, he mustn't have seen that one coming from me…_

'So, I imagine he gave you a detention, then, did he?' Laura asked, almost casually.

Calliope squeezed her eyes shut for a moment and took a deep breath before she answered. 'Yes. He also threatened to drop me from potions.' _Don't start crying again._

Laura stared at Calliope with her mouth open. 'Oh.' The bespectacled girl finally understood why Calliope was looking quite so distraught. Quietly, she had thought her friend's reaction to a detention had been a bit extreme, but this... Well, this was _different_.

'Actually, I don't know if it had to do with what I said, so much. It's that I have failed yet another potion. He feels that I am not good enough for the NEWT class. He is given me one more chance though. If I manage to not mess up my brew next week, it'll stave off the execution for another while.' Calliope grimaced, near to tears again now, as the horror of her situation came flooding back. 'Although,' she added bitterly, 'that means I might as well give up now, as I've no chance of getting it right the next time. I mean if I can't even do it when I don't have everything riding on it, what hope have I got doing it under that sort of pressure.'

Laura didn't speak in response at first, but leant over and gave her friend a tight hug, earning her an indignant meow from Mr. Wobbles, who found himself squashed between the two girls. Calliope winced as he took his revenge by digging his nails into her leg before he settled comfortably back in her lap again.

'Then we must find a way of helping you through the lesson,' Laura mused. Calliope just shrugged, she had pretty much given up already. But Laura was not so easily defeated. The Scottish girl was anything if not practical. She decided to approach the problem in the true Ravenclaw way: tackle it with logic.

'Your main problem is nerves, right?' Laura did not wait for an answer, it was a statement of fact. That's where start when solving a logical problem after all; establish what the facts are. 'Yes. I know for a fact that you _can _brew. I've seen you do it quite competently. But you get nervous in potions class, partially because of Snape, and partially because you're afraid to mess up. And because you're so nervous, that's exactly what happens. It's a vicious circle'

'Well, thanks for pointing out the obvious,' Calliope muttered, stroking Mr. Wobbles. Laura ignored her. 'What you need is to get more comfortable in class. Your problem is that you get too nervous. Therefore, the solution is to find a way to settle your nerves.'

'And how do you propose to do that? Give me a partial brain transplant?' Calliope could not prevent the sarcasm from entering into the remark. _Gods, does she not think I know all this already? If I could just settle my nerves I wouldn't be in this position in the first place_.

But Laura remained undeterred. 'As for how, well, I don't know…yet.'

The two girls sat side by side for some time, not speaking, the silence only broken by Mr. Wobbles' obscenely loud purrs. Calliope actually found herself dozing off, exhausted by what had been a very difficult day, and lulled to sleep by the warm glow of the fire. A loud snap of Laura's fingers woke her up though.

'I have it!' Laura exclaimed. 'It is really very simple.' She looked triumphantly at Calliope, showing her teeth in a wide grin. 'What you need is a Calming Draught.'

Calliope nearly laughed at the absurdity of the suggestion. 'You mean to say that you want to _drug_ me before going into potions?'

Laura frowned, then shrugged. 'Well, you would only have to take a small bit. No need to drug you into oblivion or anything, but take just enough to relax you a bit, settle your nerves. And once you build up some confidence, you can stop taking it.'

'Okay, so even if I agree that this is a good idea - which I don't, by the way – how would I even get hold of a Calming Draught? They are powerful potions, highly addictive. I can't just go to Madam Pomfrey and ask that she give me one.'

'That is true,' Laura conceded, 'although, given the circumstances, she might even agree that it would help you.'

'Even if she did, which I highly doubt, it will create a big fuss. If nothing else, she will tell my parents.'

'Maybe we should ask your parents then? Your mother is lovely, I'm sure she will understand.'

Calliope shook her head. 'No. I don't want my parents knowing about this. This whole thing is messy enough as it is.' Laura accepted the explanation without further comment, appreciating as only another sixteen year old could the necessity to not get parents involved.

'How about the apothecary in Hogsmeade?' Laura offered. 'Although, the first Hogsmeade weekend isn't for a few weeks. It will be too late by then.'

'Besides, they will probably not be happy selling potent potions to students,' Calliope agreed.

'So we can't ask Madam Pomfrey or your parents, we can't walk into the Hogsmeade apothecary,' Laura summed up. 'Where else might we obtain one. Hold on a second, what about your sisters?'

Calliope, who, under the force of Laura's enthusiasm had by now forgotten that she wasn't even in favour of the idea in the first place, considered this latest proposal. 'Well, Euterpe will just run to my parents if I asked her, so that is no good. Thalia, however, yeah, she might do it. She won't tell on me anyway, even if she doesn't agree to get me the Draught.'

'Thalia it is, then,' Laura decided. She rummaged through Calliope's bag until she found a scrap of clean parchment and her friend's writing utensils. 'Write her a note. No time like the present!'

Calliope rolled her eyes, but did not comment as she took quill, ink and parchment. _She'll bully me into it no matter what I say._

_'Dear sis,_

_Hope you are keeping well. How's the job at the ministry going?_

_I'm writing you with an unusual request. You would do me a huge favour if you could send me a couple of vials of Calming Draught. I don't really want to go into the details of why I need it. You know I am always careful. Please don't tell mum & dad though. I'll write you in more detail soon._

_Love,_

_Calliope.'_

Calliope rolled up the parchment and sealed it. She thought she had phrased the note in a way that Thalia might think she was simply experimenting with something again. She had asked Thalia for things before, although not previously for something so potent. The last line was meant to suggest without _actually_ making the promise that she would give more details on the purpose of the Calming Draught later.

Note finished, she turned back to Laura. 'Okay,' she told her friend. 'I think we can make it up to the owlery before curfew.'


	4. Detention

**AN: A brand new chapter on Pancake Tuesday. I hope you will all enjoy it. **

**Thanks for all those who have left reviews, it is greatly appreciated. **

**The next instalment will follow soon. **

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything you recognise. **

'_Dear Calliope,_

_I admit I was a bit hesitant about fulfilling your request, but you're right, you're always very careful. Please be sure to exercise caution and good sense when using these, and I do hope that you'll fill me in on the purpose. _

_Love, T._

The note had arrived only that morning, as Calliope had sat down in the Great Hall for an early breakfast. It was accompanied by a package containing six vials of a powerful Calming Draught. Calliope thought about it again as she hurried, yawning, through the deserted corridors of Hogwarts. Not yet eight o'clock on a Saturday morning, it appeared as if she was the only person that had bothered to get out of bed yet. Of course, she would much rather still be in her soft, comfortable bed as well, but unfortunately, she had a detention to serve. With Snape.

She had considered taking some of the Calming Draught straight away to help her through the ordeal, but Calliope had eventually decided against it. She still wasn't sure it was a good idea to be drugging herself in the first place, and she really only needed to be calm for brewing potions. While she was a bundle of nerves going into detention, she figured she would be writing lines. If her hands were shaking, her handwriting would just be even more messy than it usually was. No big deal; her parchment and quill were not likely to blow up because of it.

Calliope arrived in the potions classroom nearly ten minutes early. She had a habit of being punctual anyway, and today of all day she hadn't wanted to risk running late. To Calliope's surprise, the door was already open. She was not the first to arrive, as it turned out, but it was not the Potions Master, but rather a third year Hufflepuff who anxiously jumped up when he heard her come in. The boy visibly relaxed when he saw she wasn't Snape, and slumped back down in his seat again. They mumbled introductions but neither felt inclined to talk and they sat silently, waiting. Calliope chose her usual seat, in the middle of the class, after considering for a brief moment picking one of the benches furthest back instead. She was only half consciously aware that breaking from her normal habits would take away some of what little grip she had on the situation.

In the next few minutes, several other students filtered in; a surly looking fourth year Slytherin boy, who refused to acknowledge anyone, another Hufflepuff, a first year girl this time, and no less than five Gryffindors. Apparently the stories of Snape's particular dislike for Professor McGonagall's house were true. _And it seems like he deliberately reserves his Saturday mornings for detentions, _Calliope thought. _Only Snape hands out such a steady stream of detentions that it would efficient to set aside a time to have them served collectively. Does the man not have anything better to do? Or does he actually enjoy this? Actually, it wouldn't surprise me at all. He is a sadist and…_

Her private analysis of Snape's character was cut short by the Professor himself, striding into the room, cloak billowing, door slamming shut behind him. Every student in the room sat up straight immediately, fear in the faces of more than one.

Snape stood at the front of the class for several long moments, surveying the students cowering before him.

'I am pleased to see your all managed to be punctual. Even those of you who have had difficulties telling time earlier this week,' Snape shot one of the Gryffindors a look that had the poor girl trembling in fear.

He then focussed his attention on the two Hufflepuffs. 'Miss Davis, Mr. Smith. Professor Sprout has requested that you serve her detention with her.' Snape's curled in disgust as he spat the words out at them. 'You will meet her in greenhouse two.' It was clear the Potions Master was not particularly happy about the situation, in contrast to the two students, whose faces showed clear relief as they gathered up their things and hastened out of the class room. Calliope could not help but feel a bit jealous. Serving detention with Sprout had to be preferable. _I wonder why Sprout made this arrangement. I suppose she felt they didn't deserve detention? I wish Flitwick would stand up for us in this manner. _

Snape now addressed the single Slytherin in the room. 'Mr. Bourne, Mr. Filch needs helping cleaning up after Moaning Myrtle's latest outburst,' Snape smiled wickedly at the boy. 'Yes, I believe when she burst the u-bend, the bathroom flooded with sewage.' Bourne paled visibly, but he made no comment as he took his bag and left the room. Snape watch him leave with a positively venomous expression on his face. _I wonder what Bourne did?_ Calliope thought, almost feeling sorry for the boy. _That has to be worse than what Snape has in store for us here. I don't think Snape even gives detention to his own house very often. Whatever it was Bourne did, it must have been something terrible_.

Snape stood regarding the remaining group of students, the five Gryffindors and Calliope. 'As for the rest of you, please move to the front desks.' Calliope was reluctant to give up the familiarity of her customary seat, but she had no choice. _I suppose he wants to be able to keep a close eye on us._

Snape was standing unmoving, watching as they moved. With the students now all in the front row, the teacher was only a few steps away, towering over them.

'As most of you continue to fail to demonstrate any understanding of the subtle art of potion making, you will spend your Saturday morning attempting to acquire some further knowledge. Not that I expect, of course, that it will make any discernable difference. I am sure that you are nothing but a collection of dunderheads that are incapable of learning. Nevertheless, I have the misfortune of being your teacher, and attempt to teach you I shall. Therefore, you will catalogue all the uses of Fanged Geraniums in the potions in your respective textbooks, and write an essay analysing that plant's use as an ingredient.'

The faces of the Gryffindors around her suggested they did not share the sentiment, but Calliope was almost relieved when she heard what the assignment was. _This will actually be quite interesting_, she thought as she reached into her bag for the items needed. _There is a number of quite potent brews that use Fanged Geraniums. It will be interesting to compare them and analyse the function of the plant in conjunction with various other components. I think there is…._

'But not you, Miss Lode,' Snape interrupted her train of thought. Calliope looked up, and found the professor's attention now fully focussed on her. He was still standing in front his desk, to her left, looking at her sideways with half his face obscured by a curtain of greasy hair. 'No, keep your quill and parchment, but put your book away.' He flicked his wand, and a book came sailing of a shelf to slam down on the desk in front of her, sending up a puff of dust. 'You, Miss Lode, having demonstrated such a lack of basic skills, I am certain you will benefit so much more from copying the first chapter of this particular volume.' Calliope looked down at the leather bound book in front of her. It was a copy of 'Magical Draughts and Potions', the first year text book. Calliope groaned internally, now comprehending what Snape wanted her to do. The first chapter was an overview of basic potion making skills, such as how to cut ingredients, stirring techniques and, of course, methods of introducing components to the cauldron. _Copying this is going to be so boring and tedious_, she thought in horror. _Why can't I just write an essay as well?_ She looked at Snape again, and found he was still watching her, yellow teeth displayed in a smirk. _He is enjoying this, _Calliope suddenly realised._ It's a punishment tailor made for me. The others, they're Gryffindors, they don't enjoy learning as I do. _Like most Ravenclaws, Calliope held the healthy prejudice against the members of Professor McGonagall's house that they were mostly just a bunch of timewasting, sports mad barbarians that, while sometimes not completely stupid, did simply not understand the appreciate the joys of acquiring knowledge. _For them, writing lines would be preferable, as they don't have to use their heads. Their worst possible way of spending a Saturday morning is doing homework, which is what he is making them do now. But as I would actually enjoy being engaging my mind, he gives me an assignment that will not challenge my mind at all. _

Knowing why he had given her a separate assignment did not, however, change the fact that she had to do it. Suppressing a sigh, Calliope set to work.

* * *

Snape sat at his desk, grading essays. He seemed completely absorbed in his work; Calliope did not think he had looked at the detainees more than once since he had sat down. His apparent inattention had allowed Calliope to relax somewhat. The silence in the room was oppressive, broken only by the scratching of quills on parchment and the occasional desperate groan from one of the students. Calliope figured she had probably let out more than one herself. After an hour, she was already so bored that she wanted to scream. _Has it really been only an hour? Surely by now more time must have passed? No, it's five past nine. Only two minutes since the last time I checked._

_

* * *

_

_All the Gods in the Pantheon, only twenty minutes past nine now. How long does he plan on keeping us here? I am not sure how much more of this I can possibly stand. _Calliope shook her head vigorously, trying to dislodge the cobwebs. _Focus, keep going, just another little while. _It was a good thing the subterranean room was quite cold without the benefit of simmering cauldrons to heat it up; Calliope was certain she would not have been able to stay awake if the room had been as stuffy as it could sometimes get during lessons.

* * *

'Knifes should always be kept sharp. When a knife is blunt, there is the danger of the blade slipping. In this event, there is not only the danger of injury, but it will cause irregular cuts thus diminishing the potency of the ingredient.' Calliope copied the passage onto her parchment, pressing her quill down so hard that the ink splashed. _Really, so I should keep my knife sharp. How enlightening. I thought I could use the butter knife I filched from the breakfast table. _She ventured another look at the clock. _I can't believe it. A whole FIVE minutes passed since the last time I looked. Nearly ten o'clock now. How much longer?_ She turned back to the book. 'The cutting technique used depends on the instruction in the recipe. For example…..'

* * *

Calliope suddenly realised that she had been staring at the diagram demonstrating the standard shredding technique for some time. She looked at the clock again. _Another three minutes gone. Huh. _Snape still seemed absorbed in grading. _That's why he does these detentions on Saturday morning. He uses the time to get his own work done. _It occurred to her that she had never considered that teacher effectively had homework too. _Interesting. Can't say I feel sorry for Snape though_. Seeing as the professor was not paying attention, Calliope hazarded a glance to the girl on right. The Gryffindor sharing her desk was leafing through her text book, but the movement was mechanical and her eyes were unfocussed. The boy at the desk across to her left was scratching away at his parchment, but he seemed to be doodling, not writing.

Suddenly a shadow fell over her.

'Perhaps, Miss Lode, you should pay more attention to your own assignment.' Professor Snape! Calliope hadn't heard him get up, but he was now standing in front of her desk, towering over her as she looked up at him. A wave of panic washed through her as his black eyes bored into hers. He reached out to the parchment onto which she had been copying, pinching it up in nimble fingers.

'Only a foot and a half of writing in over two hours. My, my, Miss Lode. I would have expected more from you.'

Calliope shuddered under his glare as he loomed over her. _Oh no! I should have worked harder. He is going to give me more detention. _Trying to contain her terror of the Potions Master, her thoughts strayed to the package she had received that very morning._ I sure could use one of those vials of Calming Draught Thalia sent me right now_.

Snape flicked the scroll of parchment back onto the desk. 'Thalia Lode is your sister, is she not?'

'Yes, five years older than me,' Calliope responded automatically. _Wait, what? Why is he talking about Thalia all of a sudden? _

'And then of course there is Euterpe Lode,' Snape mused. 'I had the pleasure, or should I say, misfortune, of teaching both the elder Lode sisters. Of course, as I recall, they were both even more incompetent than their younger sister is turning out to be. There was never any doubt that either of them was even close to NEWT material.'

Calliope didn't respond. She didn't know what to say, and she didn't actually think Snape was looking for a reply. She was insulted on behalf of her sisters as well. _It figures, he's just found another way to make me feel bad_. Neither of them had taken NEWT potions, but they were competent witches. Sure, most people never went beyond OWLs in Snape's subject.

Snape was still looking down on her, with that sardonic little smile playing on his lips that reminded Calliope of a cat, pleased with himself after a fresh kill. 'No, I would not trust either of _them_ to give appropriate advice when it came to any potions…' He let the sentence trail off, looking at Calliope intently black eyes sparkling with an expression that she could not quite place. _What is he getting at? _she wondered, getting a bit confused. _Argh why can he not just leave me alone._ Calliope found herself blushing under his scrutiny. That seemed to satisfy him, as he broke the eye contact and turned back towards his desk. Calliope rubbed her face. _Maybe he just wants to embarrass me. Well, if that is the case, he is quite successful._

Snape had seated himself again. 'You are all dismissed. Leave your work on your desk. If it is not satisfactory, you will repeat the detention next week, until you get it right.' With that, he returned to his own work, not looking up as the small group of students sprang into action and cleared out of the room in about three seconds flat.

**AN: Next up will be the Potions class. Make or break time for Calliope! **

**Although I never had detention while in school (always the good girl, me), I did try to capture that sense of intense frustration and boredom experienced during a particularly boring class, trying to focus on an assignment that you have no interest in whatsoever, so that you literally end up watching every single minute pass on the clock. Let me know if I've succeeded! **

**If you've read this far, and enjoyed the story, please take a minute or so to leave a review. It would really make my day. **


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